


Sweet

by Aurumite



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Oral Sex, arranged marriage that becomes a loving marriage, sweet talk, well ok everyone loves it except Ephraim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurumite/pseuds/Aurumite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a FE Kink Meme fill: "Innes/Eirika - he enjoys sweet talking his wife."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> For a FE Kink Meme fill: "Innes/Eirika - he enjoys sweet talking his wife."
> 
> This is probably not very good but it makes me sad to see nothing ever getting filled, and I know the later games get even less love than FE13. So here goes.

Eirika had gotten a little more than expected out of her marriage.

Her candidates were limited, as a princess. There had been Joshua, devilishly handsome and bright-eyed but too wild, too reckless. Seth, who ascended to a general's rank just as she'd dreamed about when she was a little girl, below her status but not out of reach, red hair falling into his face as he bowed and drew the lines between them anyway. And Lyon...she had always assumed, deep down, it would have been Lyon, long fingers gently turning fragile pages, shooting her glances and little smiles across the room like he knew exactly what she was thinking, knew and agreed, whatever it was.

It hadn't been Lyon.

During their darker hours, which every married couple had, she told herself she was with Innes because there were no other options. But those were short and few, and during them she was not honest with herself. She married Innes because he was her friend, one of her oldest and dearest. Because though he treated her like a prize to be won at first, once he'd had that draw with Ephraim and she'd flung herself into the ring, so very tired of it all, he continued to treat her like she was something to strive for. Like he, as a husband, should always be working to impress his wife and keep her happy. She married Innes because he would protect her with a bow and his bare hands, even if she was the one with the sword and he had no place on the front lines with her. She married Innes because they made sense together, got along well, and cherished each other, and because Innes, despite his snark, was chivalrous. Brave. Intelligent. Gentle.

And, she'd learned immediately, very good in bed.

She took her tea alone that night, in their chamber. It was rainy and cold and so she'd curled up in a chair before the hearth, enjoying the hot porcelain of her cup against her chilled fingers. Ephraim was supposed to arrive for a week-long visit in the afternoon, but was surely being delayed by the weather. She could hardly wait to see him. Even if--

“Your brother is late,” Innes grumbled as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. “As always.”

Even if her husband still hated him on principle.

“What do you expect him to do,” she retorted. “Charge through the rain?”

“It seems like just the mad plan to strike his fancy, actually.”

“I do hope you intend to be polite to him while he's here!”

“I'm always polite. He's the one to worry about.”

“Must you always do this? I may be your wife, but I am just as much his sister!”

“I'll stop. For you.” Innes's lips turned up into something that was more of a smirk than a smile, but his words sounded genuine: “Only for you.”

He was walking to her now, that strut of a walk she couldn't fathom why she was so attracted to.

“Our blood is the same, you know,” she told him as he came up behind her. “Whatever Ephraim is, I am as well. So if you loathe him...”

“Please, Eirika. I do apologize.” His hands landed on her shoulders and lightly squeezed, searching for tension. When he didn't find any he began to caress her, running his fingertips slowly over her shoulders and neck. “Though what you say isn't true. You are much kinder than he is.”

“I just said--!”

“Even if,” he interrupted, “I admit that Ephraim can be very kind, despite myself. Your heart puts his to shame. And mine. I doubt there is anyone as kind as you.” He kissed just beneath her ear.

“None of that.” Eirika was teasing but kept her voice steady. “I'm quite cross with you.”

“I'd like to be kind back to you, Eirika,” he whispered against her skin. She shivered and tightened her grip around her cup. He would not win so easily. As if sensing her thoughts, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder that was almost chaste. “There is so much about you that is wonderful. The way you're always out volunteering in the streets...the sound of your laugh...the curve of your neck...”

His lips wandered up her throat and down again. Heat was spreading through her from more than the tea, but she managed to speak without her voice trembling yet again: “You cannot simply sweet talk me into your bed.”

This was a bold lie, as he had done it many times before. He not only adored her but was skilled enough with words to articulate why, and what he wanted, and what she deserved from him. He surprised her when his response was not a retort at all but gentle sucking at the back of her neck.

“Eirika,” he breathed, “I don't deserve you. Let me fight for you. Let me prove myself.”

“My brother isn't here to give his approval,” she said archly.

“I don't care a whit for his approval. So long as I have yours, I am the luckiest man in the world.”

She paused and pretended to consider it. He adorned her ear and cheek and temple with slow kisses in the meantime. Finally she took his hand and guided it to the front of her nightgown with a smile.

“If you did not have it, Innes, I would not have wed you.”

In an instant his practiced fingers undid the ties and were fondling her so deftly that she nearly spilled her tea. When his mouth returned to her neck, hot and insistent as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples, she actually did. The cup thumped against the carpet, not cracking, and dark liquid seeped into the light fabric.

“Are you burned?” he asked.

“No, but--”

“But nothing, then.” He turned her head to kiss her deeply and she closed her eyes, more than content to forget about the mess for the moment, as he clearly intended to. Sensing she'd lost some of her warmth, he took her hands to chafe them, gentle even while his kisses grew hungrier.

“If you're cold,” he mumbled against her lips, “we should move to the bed.”

But Eirika shook her head. She was impatient now, between his endearments and light touches and the skill of his tongue.

“You can warm me, can't you?”

“With great pleasure.”

He drew her out of the chair and she helped him out of his jacket and shirt, taking a moment to admire him before he pulled her against his heated skin. He had good arms, from all those restrung bows and perfect shots. She wasn't given much time to think before they were kissing again, his hands rubbing her back and hers buried in his hair. She was, if secretly, as competitive as he was, but when he returned his fingers to her breasts she was the first to let a moan escape. She couldn't help it.

“I've won, this time,” he broke away to tease. “I want to make it so you can't stay quiet, my darling, my wife, my everything--” His lips flecked her skin with bedroom names and brief kisses, over her collarbones and between her breasts as he pulled her loose nightgown down inch by inch. She gasped when the cold air met her nipples and whimpered when Innes's warm mouth followed soon after. He dragged his tongue over one teasingly as his fingertip worked the other. His free hand kept tugging her nightgown, trailing down her stomach, caressing her hip, grazing the outside of her thigh until all the fabric had puddled at her feet. Maybe some of it landed in the nearby puddle of tea. Eirika still didn't care. She knew what was coming. While he sucked, sending a jolt of pleasure through her, he slipped a finger between her legs and delivered another.

"Oh," she breathed.

“Eirika,” he murmured with another slow, slick, experimental stroke from her opening to her clit, making her bite down hard on her lip. “You're shivering.”

So she was, she realized too late. “I-Innes--”

“Are you still cold? Should I stop?”

“Innes, please!”

The time for teasing had long passed, in her opinion. He smirked against her skin as he kissed down her stomach, still grazing her with his fingers, sinking to his knees before her. Her breath caught in her throat. Innes never, ever knelt for anyone.

“Only for you,” he whispered, an echo from before, like he was reading her thoughts. The next stroke was his tongue, hot and soft and wet, pushing into her slowly, drawing out of her slowly, in and out and _in_.

Eirika moaned and wove her fingers through his long hair. Her knees were hardly holding her up by the time his tongue withdrew entirely and slid to the front of her, tracing circles around her clit. One long finger replaced it, immediately soaked to the knuckle. Her hips began to move to match his lazy pace. She was desperate for anything deeper, wider. He eased a second finger in, crooked them both expertly. Breathing ragged, voicing most of her exhalations, Eirika threw back her head and bucked harder. Innes moaned too as he continued to lick her, long strokes that made her shudder. His voice vibrating against her only brought her closer and her grip tightened. He winced a little but was smiling when he pulled his mouth away, fingers still working deep into her, dragging down her sensitive walls. She thought she could fall apart at any moment.

“Is this kind enough?” he asked her.

“It's kind,” she assured desperately as his tongue returned, flicking against her, rubbing her with the flat, “It's so kind, so kind, so sweet of you--” One hand left his hair so she could push back her own, anchoring herself, feeling sweat gather at her temples, “so sweet, Innes, it's sweet--!”

It was too sweet, too much, pressure deep where she ached inside and hard where she burned outside, and she cried out as her climax washed over her. Sweet had been the perfect word. He'd made her come every time before, made her come hard or hot or slow or fast, but this felt like utter heaven, like she was so treasured, like heavily sugared tea spilling through her warm limbs, making her smile with delight until she'd ridden it out.

“Innes,” she breathed. A gasp escaped as his fingers pulled out, still so sensitive. He stood and wiped his mouth, looking entirely too satisfied.

“You're so beautiful,” he said huskily. “You must know it. Everything about you.”

“You certainly make me feel that way.” Her voice came out too shy for how she really felt, very comfortable before him in her nakedness. Even on their wedding night, he hadn't made her feel like there was anything to be shy about. He'd spoken sweetly to her then, too: _How often I've dreamed of this, what I would have given to simply touch your face, do you truly mean it Eirika, may I have you, may I be yours._

Now the tenderness was gone from his eyes and the cockiness was back. She felt her eyebrow arch.

“I'm going to take you now,” he said. He absolutely was not, she thought as she went for his breeches, helping him out of them as fast as possible with knees and hands still quivering in the afterglow. She was going to take _him_. Their next kiss was more like grappling, gripping whatever bare skin they could find, his erection pressed to her thigh.

“The sweet-talking worked,” he chuckled before he nipped her neck. She pushed him down into the chair.

“I said you couldn't talk me into bed. This isn't our bed.”

She knelt atop him and let him suffer for a while, his tip a mere inch from her soaked opening, watching him kiss her breasts and stomach, his hands desperately massaging her thighs. It was only when he went back to his old tactic--“You're everything I could want, as a friend, as a king, as a man”--that she lowered herself down, reveling in his groan, letting her voice match his.

Perhaps she was on top but he took charge from the bottom once she had adjusted, fingers digging into her legs as she wrapped her arms around his neck and sealed their lips. It was hard to imagine that she had been cold a while ago. Now sweat slid her breasts over his chest, dampened her hair as he pulled his fingers through it, salted his neck when she bent to suck on it. He kept the endearments coming, his voice low and breathy, and she rewarded him with a long moan at one in particular:

“I do love you, Eirika. As I always, always have.”

She couldn't say _always_ back. She couldn't tell him he was her first love, or even her first choice. But this was where fate had put them, and gods, as he moved inside her, she was so grateful for it. The words came easily to her lips:

“I truly love you too, Innes.”

Her voice broke against a particularly perfect thrust. His hand fisted in her hair. Her needy fingers found her clit again and she ground against him as he gasped, muscles taut, lips slanting sloppily against hers, filling her mouth with his exultant voice, hitting her just right again and again and _again_ as he pumped his release into her. She loved to see him this way, and only she could see—Frelia's lord completely debauched, all his infamous pride gone, desperate for a pleasure only she could give him. Her fingers worked frantically, and at his last hard thrust she quivered too and keened his name in a way that was probably not queenly.

For a long moment they stayed collapsed in each others' arms, stroking each others' hair, catching their breath.

“We've made quite the mess,” Eirika murmured. There was tea on the carpet, clothes strewn about everywhere, sweat on the chair along with their juices, slowly leaking from her as Innes lessened inside her, dripping down the insides of their thighs.

“So we have.” Innes kissed her face, perhaps too innocently. “May I tell you something, Eirika?”

“Yes?” she asked warily.

“I'm actually quite glad that Ephraim is late.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and laughed.

xxx

Ephraim blew into the castle soaked, freezing, and more than a little irritated with the heavens. He swept himself in his dripping cape and the two knights Eirika would most want to see up to the center of the castle, where her room was.

Innes's room too, perhaps, but he preferred to never, ever acknowledge it.

Forde was wringing out his hair with a grin and even Kyle looked pleased at the chance to see their old friend after all this time. Ephraim himself could hardly wait to embrace his sister and see how well she loved life in Frelia. He had a hand lifted to knock until he heard her voice. 

And not just her voice.

“Fuck,” he said, turned beet-red, raked back his damp hair, and immediately fled for the great hall. He could just wait until morning for them to realize he'd arrived. Or maybe he'd just ride back to Renais. Or right off a cliff. Kyle and Forde followed his rapid flight down the stairs, the former coughing to hide his uncomfortableness and the latter to hide his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I was afraid to leave that last bit in because of mood whiplash, but if a body honestly asks themselves "yes Ephraim" or "no Ephraim" is the answer not always "yes Ephraim"? 
> 
> Also a little worried about Innes being too submissive to be completely IC, but then, it always seemed to me that he pretty much worships Eirika and would cut back on the bullshit once his whole "proving himself the best man in her life" shtick is over. WHO KNOWS. Not me.


End file.
